Friends 'till the End
by Anonymous1O1
Summary: After four years apart, Ash and the gang are finally getting back together again. Heading to the beautiful Sunyshore City, they bring with them new surprises and old memories. Nothing in the world is perfect, however, and soon the "happy getaway" becomes something much worse. Good thing Ash & Co. are used to it. PS CS IS LS WS FWS
1. Preparations

**Hey guys, and welcome to my new story! I'm really, really looking forward to this one.**

 **Just so you're aware, these are the ships that will appear in this story:**

 **PokeShipping (Ash/Misty)**

 **ContestShipping (Drew/May)**

 **LuckShipping (Brock/Lucy)**

 **IkariShipping (Paul/Dawn)**

 **WishfulShipping (Cilan/Iris)**

 **FourthWheelShipping (Bonnie/Max)**

 **GaryxOC**

 **SerenaxOC**

 **If any of these pairings offend you, leave now. Hate comments directed toward any of these ships will absolutely not be tolerated.**

 **That aside, I hope you enjoy this story!**

* * *

Dawn's hand glided effortlessly across the paper, the fountain pen inking her perfected signature against the flowery background. After blowing on it to dry the ink, she slipped it into a small, pink envelope.

"There!" she cried, setting the freshly-sealed letter down on the stack. "The last one's done. Now I've just got to get them in the mail by tomorrow, and we'll be all set!"

From his place on the couch, Paul took another sip of his drink and sighed. "Is it _really_ necessary for us to have this thing? You don't even know if half of the addresses are still the same, let alone if these people will even come."

Dawn shot her husband an irritated glare. "First of all, Mr. Pessimist, I checked the Internet and verified that the addresses _are_ in fact the same. And second, 'these people' are old, very good friends of ours. Of course they'll come."

Paul shook his head. "I only ever said that I liked Gary and Drew. The rest are real bums."

"Paul!" Dawn snapped. "We talked about this, remember? About you trying harder to not insult my friends!?"

The purple-haired Trainer opened his mouth to retort, but opted not to as soon as he caught sight of his wife's expression. She looked about ready to rip a tree out of the ground. Paul may not always understand his wife, but he definitely understood that.

"Fine," he conceded. "Do whatever you want."

Her look of fury quickly melted into a smirk. She always knew how to get under his skin.

After double-checking to make sure that the letters were all properly stamped and sealed, Dawn got up from her seat and headed upstairs.

One quick turn had her in the nursery. She swiftly brought herself over to the crib in which her tiny baby lay, sound asleep. Her heart, as it always did, melted at the mere sight of him. His precious little face looked sweet enough when he was awake, let alone when he was tucked underneath his blankie lost in some kind of dream.

She leaned against the crib, careful not to shift it. As cute as Matthew was, he could be a nasty little thing when his nap was interrupted.

At times she could scarcely believe that she and Paul had made something so beautiful. Between her temper - which somehow had worsened with age - and Paul's frequent pessimism and sardonicism, she was surprised that the baby was anything beyond demonic.

She was so focused on her young child that she failed to notice Paul enter the room. The young man watched his wife in silence for a few moments, taking in the innocent moment that she was sharing with their son.

As callous as he could be, Paul really did care about them. He'd been honest, of course, when he said that he hated the great majority of the people Dawn called her friends. And yet, he knew that he'd wind up going and "enjoying" himself- just for her.

He never would have guessed as a teenager that he'd end up married to Dawn. She'd annoyed the shit out of him during his journey through Sinnoh. Somehow, though, she managed to grow on him when they met again in Kalos.

He still didn't really understand how it all happened. One minute, he's irritated that she keeps following him around like his shadow. The next, they're talking under the moonlight and he's wondering why he can't pull himself away. He refused to admit to himself that he liked her for the longest time. Looking back, he supposed that it was his way of coping with such a drastic turn in events.

She honestly got more tolerable as the two of them grew up. Either that, or he just learned to look past her frustrating exterior and see the qualities underneath. Paul refused to even consider the fact that he was capable of such deep, emotional thinking, however.

Finally, he drifted over to his wife. She was still staring lovingly at their son, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away. Slowly, he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her.

She jumped a little inside- not because she thought it was anyone else, but because her husband usually didn't do things like that. The most romantic thing he did on a regular basis was tell her he loved her before he went to work.

Paul glanced up at the clock. "Isn't it time for his feeding?"

Dawn shook her head. Paul sniffled as the tips of her blue locks swept across his nose. "He's fast asleep. I don't want to bother him. You know how he gets when his nap gets interrupted."

He moved away from his wife, turning just a bit away from her. "Still, I don't think it's a very good idea for him to be off his schedule. He'll be waking us up at three in the morning, screaming for his bottle. He'll be cranky in the morning. It'll be hard to get him back on his schedule..."

He failed to notice that his wife, after sneaking a behind-the-back eye roll, had moved to the opposite side of the room. She began tidying up, rearranging some of Matthew's stuffed animals.

After finishing an exaggerated statement about how they'd lose hours of sleep by missing just one feeding, Paul finally realized that Dawn wasn't giving him even an ounce of her attention.

"Hey!" he snapped. "I'm trying to talk to you!"

"So I heard," she replied, somewhat amused. She carefully set a Teddiursa plush down beside its evolution. "Paul, we've broken Matthew's schedule before. Yeah, maybe he's gotten a little cranky, but we've always handled it. You always exaggerate. There's really no need to worry."

He shrugged. "Either way, I'm not gonna be the one who deals with him when he wakes up screaming and kicking tomorrow morning." After sneaking one last, quick glance at his son, he walked out of the nursery.

Dawn sighed. "That's really nothing new."

* * *

"Yes, and we'll be leaving on the 25th," Dawn said.

After hearing the cheeky receptionist's response on the other end, she added that every room should be charged to the same account. Despite the fact that she knew it would irk Paul, they had enough money to truly treat their friends in such a way.

After all, they hadn't seen much of anything of each other in almost four years. Sure, they called each other once in a while, but that was it. Life just kept them too busy. Ash was now the Indigo League Champion, May and Drew were teaching at a new coordinator school in Hoenn, Cilan had his own cooking show, and Gary was working on an incredibly important internship with Professor Kukui in Alola. Even Bonnie and Max were busy, with Max now being the leader of the Petalburg Gym.

As for Dawn and Paul, traveling with a two-month-old isn't exactly high on their bucket list. Not to mention how horribly Dawn endured the entire pregnancy, and the fact that she basically went from married to pregnant in a span of two weeks. And, of course, there was the small problem of Paul having to run the Canalave City Gym.

Despite all of that, however, every single couple on Dawn's invite list had RSVP'd a "yes". She'd gotten the invites out two months in advance, just to be sure that everyone had time to take off from work and make any other necessary arrangements. After all, some of them lived quite far from Sinnoh.

The event coordinator in Dawn was really coming out with this whole thing; she was going all out. She had spent hours researching the best resorts in the region, finally settling on a gorgeous place near Sunyshore City. The rooms were child-friendly, and the entire place was right on the water. Not to mention that they gave her a great deal for booking so many rooms at once.

In addition, she'd already taken care of the refreshments, decorations, and a reservation for sky-diving lessons for everyone. Hey, if they were going to have a reunion, they might as well make it worth it.

The only thing left was booking their flight from Canalave to Sunyshore. She wasn't about to drive the whole distance with a baby.

As much as she hadn't wanted to, she'd resorted to letting Paul take care of the plane tickets. It was something that even he could do (somehow, he'd turned into quite the technologically inept person), although she wouldn't put it past him to try and get the cheapest seats possible.

Not that saving money was a bad thing, of course, but "cheap" with Paul usually equated to "bad". On the flight to Cinnabar Island for their honeymoon, he'd booked seats that they literally had to _race other people_ for.

Still, it kept him busy, which meant that he was out of Dawn's hair. That's all that really mattered, even if it did cost her a guaranteed seat on the plane.

After finishing a call with the Sunyshore Sunflowers to make sure that the flowers would be ready in time, she sat back and allowed herself a moment to reflect.

It would be so great to see everyone again. She and Paul hadn't even told anyone that they were married; as far as their friends were concerned, they still hated each other. She insisted on it being that way on purpose, this idea of a reunion already budding in her mind. She couldn't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when they showed up together, child in tow. It might even beat the reaction to Bonnie and Max eloping together after Max won the Ever Grande Conference.

Oh, how sweet it could be. Everything was going to be _perfect_. She was absolutely, positively sure of it.

* * *

 **So short chapter, but this was mainly to set up the story. So the gang hasn't seen much of each other in almost four years... quite a long time. Life can get busy when you're successful! What will happen to our heroes when they get together again?**

 **Lots of nostalgic references, fluff, and revelations ahead!**

 **See you next time!**

 **(P.S. Happy Pokemon Day, everyone!)**


	2. On Our Way

**Welcome to the second chapter!**

 **Responses to reviews:**

 **Northstar Pokeshipper: Thank you! I hope to see you around this chapter!**

 **Pokeshipping Fun2018: Thank you very much!**

 **The featured story for this chapter is Misty the Matchmaker by AngelicFairy. "** **Misty is a successful matchmaker at 22 and everything's going smoothly until one day, a stranger enters her shop. S** **he seems to know him but can't tell who he is. He keeps coming back, wanting a match, but not with someone else. He wants a match…with her."**

 **Thoughts: I've read up through chapter nine on this story, and I think it's really good. The story features a lot of throwbacks to old characters, and the way that Ash and Misty's story develops is funny and enjoyable.**

 **This story currently has 2 reviews, 5 favorites, and 4 followers. Thank you!**

 **As always, hate of any kind will not be tolerated. I don't care who you are.**

* * *

"Ash, will you please hurry up? We're going to be late, and it'll be all your fault!" Misty yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.

Her husband's muffled voice came back at her, equally as annoyed. "Mist, I'm going as fast as I can. You know that it takes me a while to shave. I can't cut myself."

She huffed, "I thought you said you finished shaving ten minutes ago!"

"Yeah, well now I'm trying to get my hair the right way."

Misty groaned and gave up. Taking a few steps back, she sat down rather heavily on the bed. There were times when she was almost 100% positive that she'd somehow married a woman trapped in a man's body. Ash took more time in the bathroom getting ready than _anyone_ she'd ever known.

That included May, too, who always had to re-do her makeup at least three or four times before she was satisfied.

Deciding to make good use of her time, she re-checked their luggage for the third time. Misty was a careful traveler, always making sure that she and Ash had everything and anything they could possibly need. Ash always said that she over-prepared, but she never listened all that close to the advice of someone who got lost going to the grocery store.

Sure enough, the suitcases were just as perfectly packed as they were the last time she checked. Ash had all of his clothes and hygiene items stowed away, as did she. Their shoes were perfectly arranged in the shoe bag, and their swim gear was organized neatly in the swim bag.

Misty was debating whether or not she should start bringing them downstairs when the bathroom door _finally_ opened. She whirled around, ready to make some snide comment about his arrival (she and Ash were particularly good at that), but stopped mid-breath.

Her husband, in all of his childish glory, was standing before her dressed in what had to be the most gaudy, tourist-y, revolting outfit she'd ever seen him in.

He was wearing a bright blue Alolan shirt with little orange Alolan Exeggutors on them over a yellow zebra shirt. His pants were what she could only describe as a cheap powder blue color. And as if it couldn't get worse, he was wearing pineapple socks _with sandals_.

It took her a whole three minutes to find her voice. "Ash..."

He shot her a beaming grin. "Isn't it great? I found all of this stuff at Wal-Mart yesterday!"

Misty felt like she was going to throw up. "What exactly made you think that this-" she gestured at his whole outfit "-was a good idea?"

Ash's smile died a little. "You don't like it?"

She cringed. "Ash, honey, those clothes do _not_ go together. Absolutely not."

"But these are all 'sunny vacation' clothes!" he protested. "The signs at the store said so."

Her head fell back, her eyes focusing on the spinning ceiling fan as she tried to suppress a mixture of annoyance and laughter. "Just because they're all one type of clothing doesn't mean that they all belong together."

"Well," he said defensively, "I'm changing that rule. I think it looks good, and that's all that matters."

This time, Misty looked at him, entirely serious. "You mean that you're sticking by this?"

"Yeah."

She stood up. "Ash Ketchum, I am _not_ walking into a public airport with you looking like that." She pictured all of the people there staring at them, trying to contain their laughter as Ash strolled on past. Now, Ash never really was bothered by what others thought of him, and she admired that. But regardless, she wasn't about to watch him make a fool of himself.

"Why not?"

"Because," she drawled, "everyone will stare, and the paparazzi will go nuts. Every magazine from here to Unova will be plastered with this atrocity of an outfit."

He folded his arms. "Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I'll start a new fashion trend. Zebra print and Alolan shirts, with bright pants of course."

Misty shuddered as she thought about a thousand crazy fan boys and girls dressing in outfits like that. That was just what the world needed at that moment.

Looking at Ash, however, she could tell that he really did feel his outfit. Whether it was simply his excitement over the reunion bleeding over into his fashion taste or just his goofiness in general, she didn't know. She did know, however, that she wasn't about to force him to wear something that he didn't want to.

Well, for the most part.

She grabbed the sides of his Alolan shirt. "Just do me a favor. Button this up."

He looked a bit confused. "Huh?"

She stepped back. "I will not let that hideous shirt be out for everyone to see. So, button your Alolan shirt up. That way, we both can be happy." He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "I mean it. I don't want my excitement over this trip to be ruined by that shirt."

He sighed and did as she asked. As he did so, she spun on one foot and walked back over to the bed, scooping up the two suitcases. She was about to leave the bedroom when a strong hand grabbed her arm.

She looked over her shoulder, finding her face a mere inch away from Ash's. "I can take the suitcases," he offered. "You take the shoe bag and the swim bag. And your purse."

She pursed her lips. "I'm fine."

He let go of her arm to grab the suitcase in her right hand. "I'm not kidding, Misty. I know that you can, but you won't. Not right now."

Knowing perfectly well that Ash could be just as stubborn as she, Misty let go of the luggage. Her husband swept them up himself and headed out of the room. Grabbing her own bags, she followed.

The pair headed down the stairs and stopped by the front door. While Misty did a quick sweep to make sure that the water was turned off and the security systems were armed, Ash snuck his way into the kitchen.

Now, Misty had told him several times that he was not to bring any snacks to the airport. The airlines had banned the possession of outside snacks recently, primarily to try and force people to buy the snack boxes that they offered mid-flight. Anyone who was caught trying to bring outside food onto the plane would have to throw it out, and as a result would be delayed in security.

Ash, however, truly believed that he was perfectly capable of sneaking a snack or two past the nosy security personnel. He would probably end up buying a snack box or two anyways, so it wasn't like he was costing the airline any money.

He whipped open a cupboard, knowing that he had to be fast. There was no telling when Misty would be back, and she'd be expecting him at the front door.

He shifted through all of the boring stuff to get to what was in the back. He often hid his favorite snacks way in the back of the cupboard, right where his wife couldn't reach them. The cupboard was just high enough so that Misty, who had ended up 5'5 tall, couldn't reach the very back without help.

A smile broke out on his face as he discovered what he'd been looking for. He felt the hard corners of the box and pulled it out, the sun striking its glorious blue front. Ash eagerly reached into it, pulling out the second to last package.

When they'd first come out, he'd expressed disdain at the idea of mini Oreos. What was the point in shrinking a good thing? But after realizing how easily he could sneak them both past his wife and into places where he wasn't supposed to have food, he'd grown to love them more than almost any other snack out there.

"Ash?" The Pokemon Master froze as he heard Misty call out his name. Fast as a Pidgeot, he thrust the bag of mini Oreos into his shirt pocket and rushed out to meet her.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him as he approached. "What were you doing in the kitchen?"

Fortunately, his mind actually managed to come up with a believable answer. "I was just checking to make sure I'd unplugged the toaster."

She seemed to believe him. "Okay. The water and security are all set. Now, you're absolutely sure that you fed your Magikarp last night and remembered to lock the garage?"

He nodded. "Definitely. I'm trying to get those 'karp to grow into big, huge Gyarados. I wouldn't forget to feed them, ever. And as for the garage, I checked it after breakfast this morning."

Misty nodded. "Guess we're all set then. Let's go."

* * *

Lucy was _really_ getting tired of Brock's chattering.

It wasn't often that her husband went on and on about things, which told her that he was just the slightest bit excited. She was happy about that, of course, but at the same time her left eardrum felt like it was about to pop.

She was too reserved to say anything, though. She was Brock's foil in a lot of ways; while he was spontaneously emotional, very well-versed in the subjects of Pokémon medicine and breeding, and great with kids, she was steady, of average intelligence, and awkward with the kids.

All in all, that pretty much meant that she usually ended up listening to her husband instead of the other way around.

"-and the time that we found that lost child in the Safari Zone who'd been raised by the Kangaskhan," he was saying. "I wonder if they'll remember that? I told you about that, didn't I?"

She gave him a somewhat-distracted look. "Um, yeah. Yes."

He frowned. "Are you listening to me?"

Lucy nodded, beaming a broad smile at Brock. "Of course! I always do!"

He seemed to believe her. "Anyways, I bet everyone will have so many stories to tell. Us included. I don't even think Gary's wife has met you yet!"

She wrinkled her nose. "Did Dawn _really_ have to invite them?"

"Yeah," Brock answered, as if the answer was obvious. "Gary and the rest of us are all on good terms now, even if he still fights with Ash sometimes. It'd be rude not to invite him."

Her eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, where she caught a glimpse of her sleeping children. "I don't have an issue with Gary. I have an issue with his _wife_. She's going to be a bad influence on our children." She lowered her voice. "I mean, she's an _exotic dancer!_ "

Brock, knowing that his wife was too focused on the road to notice, rolled his eyes. "Luce, it's fine. She's not going to be working at the reunion."

She pursed her lips. "I just don't want any of her bad influence rubbing off on our children. They're much too young to even begin to understand her... line of work."

"Which is exactly why they'll be fine," Brock argued. "Even if she does say something, they're too young to understand. Besides, they'll have other kids to busy themselves with. They'll hardly be around her at all."

"And what about _you?_ " she questioned. She could feel the surprise reverberate off of her husband. "Can I trust that you won't go oogly-eyed in front of the kids the first time you see her?"

It took Brock a while to respond. He milled over his response, trying to figure out the right way to word it. When it came to his impulsiveness around women, he had to tread lightly. He was not unfaithful, of course, and he knew that his wife trusted him to never go beyond just looking. Even still, she could get quite sensitive over the topic.

At last, he said, "I'll try my very hardest. You know that."

She pursed her lips, but accepted his response nonetheless. It was honest, and that's all she ever really asked of him.

"Besides," he suddenly added, his tone a tad lighter, "Strippers aren't really my type. I'm not a fan of sharing my woman, or of watching her take off her clothes around a bunch of other men."

Lucy felt her cheeks heat up. "Brock," she chastised, "do you really have to talk like a high school boy? Honestly."

He smirked. "'I'm just teasing."

She huffed. "Well, for the record, I don't like sharing my man, either."

"So then neither of us have to worry."

"Yep."

For the next hour or so, everything was relatively quiet. At one point, A.J. had woken up and popped the all-too famous question: "Are we there yet?". Lucy had, with a mixture of irritation and amusement at her son's eagerness, informed him that it would be at least six hours before they arrived in Sunyshore City. The young boy groaned with disdain, but the darkness in the car combined with the soft music Brock had playing quickly lulled him back to sleep.

Lucy and Brock were fortunate. Many of their friends often complained of loud car rides that featured such joys as throwing food, fighting, and making a general mess of the back seat. For the Harrisons, they were able to go quite a distance before any of that even became a possibility.

Now, when they actually arrived at their destination, it would be a totally different story. A.J. and Dean would be completely rested after a long night of nothing but sleeping, giving them plenty of energy to run about and likely do the exact _opposite_ of what Brock and Lucy wanted them to.

Lucy supposed that was good, since kids had to be kids. Brock always said that a little mischief and a lot of play makes a childhood. Listening to his tales of the heroics and mishaps he and his friends got into as kids, she couldn't deny that he just might be right.

Even so, she was sure they were in for one hell of a weekend... in more ways than one.

* * *

 **We're almost there! I wonder what kind of trouble a goofy Ash, a still-flirtatious Brock, an arrogant Gary, and his stripper wife will get into.**

 **To explain the whole "Brock moons over other women but isn't unfaithful" thing, my headcanon is that, after years of chasing after many different women in the hopes of scoring a girlfriend, gawking at every beautiful woman he sees is basically ingrained into Brock's personality. He retains the flirtatious side of him from his younger years, but makes up for it by being a faithful husband who saves all the best comments for Lucy, and of course a great father.**

 **See you next time!**

 **\- Nony**


	3. The First Arrival

**Welcome to chapter three! This time we'll be going back to Dawn and Paul, just in time for everyone to start arriving!**

 **Response to review:**

 **Northstar Pokeshipper - Pikachu's whereabouts will be explained later, but if you're dying for an answer, looking at the headcanons on my profile might give you a clue. Thanks for your review!**

 **The featured story for this chapter is "Don't Forget Me" by YlvaWolf.**

 **Summary: "Raised in a strict military family, Morag Ainsley has had few opportunities to make true friends. That all changes though when she is accepted to Naoki International Academy in Japan. She only has two years to forge new friendships with plenty of obstacles to overcome, and not just teenage drama. Sinister powers are lurking in this world, threatening humanity's very existence..."**

 **Thoughts: I'm reaaaaaly enjoying this story so far. It's connected to a story written by another author on this site, Clarified Conundrum, but knowledge of To the Better You isn't necessary to enjoy this piece. The author is also very friendly and invested in the story, which is a major bonus! Check it out!**

 **This story currently has 3 reviews, 5 followers, and 5 favorites. Thank you!**

* * *

As hurriedly as humanly possible Dawn rushed around the event hall, setting silverware on the table and making sure that everyone's water glass was full. It was almost five o'clock- the scheduled time for people to start arriving. The hors d'oeuvres trays were done, the chef was starting dinner, and the music was on. At that moment, the quiet harmony of violins and piano was filling the room, doing a tad to soothe Dawn's frayed nerves.

For the majority of the day, everything had gone smooth as ice cream. She'd arrived fresh and ready at eleven, her arms piled with everything she'd need to get the room set up. She had taken the liberty of purchasing some toys for the kids, knowing that they might be bored during all the "grown-up talk". There was a room off of the main event hall that she'd promptly turned into a nice little play room for them.

Just after she finished piecing together a doll house for Iris and Cilan's girls, however, things went a tad sour. Paul, whom she had left in charge of Matthew, called her in a frenzy. Apparently, somehow, Paul had managed to break the bottle warmer, and Matthew was screaming for something to eat. So, much to Dawn's annoyance, she'd been forced to temporarily abandon her little project and race to the nearest department store to pick up a new bottle warmer- this one more durable, of course.

Then, as she was backing out of her parking space, some asshole flew up behind her and bumped the rental. Fortunately, there was no damage, but Dawn was still pretty pissed. And then, to top it all off, the elevator was down for maintenance, forcing her to take - and then fall down - the stairs.

Long story short, it was time for a break.

Dawn had insisted on Paul waiting until the very last minute to bring Matthew over. He'd been a bit disgruntled about it, having hoped to get some time in the sun, but relented when Dawn curtly explained that there were no other options. She didn't want her young son (or her husband, for that matter) getting in the way of what she was trying to put together.

Relief filled her as she placed the last fork into position. Finally, it was done.

Taking a moment, she surveyed the event hall, seeing it in its full decorated mode for the first time. The ivory-colored tablecloth fit wonderfully against a background of rich wooden walls and a grand, velvety red carpet. Two golden chandeliers twinkled in the light the other provided, casting an atmospheric glow down on the chairs below. The massive glass balcony doors betrayed a beautiful view of the ocean.

She was so absorbed in her surroundings that she nearly missed the rapping of a fist on the main door. Whirling around, she whisked herself over to it, wondering which of her old companions she'd be greeted by first.

It was only Paul.

The young Gym Leader looked impatient, holding Matthew firmly against his side. The baby's travel bag was slung over his shoulder, nearly bursting from the force of what was stuffed inside.

"It's five to five," he bluntly reported. "Can you please take him? My arm feels like it's going to fall off."

Rolling her eyes at her husband's wimpiness, Dawn carefully took their son from him. He stirred a little at the movement, but upon seeing that it was only his mother, buried his head down in her shoulder.

"He's tired," she murmured. A little more loudly, she asked, "So what did you two do all day?"

Paul walked past her and set the travel bag on the floor. "Sat around. He slept, I read. At one point I had Monferno practice its Flamethrower aim on a flock of Starly."

She blinked. "That's it?"

He gave her a look. "What did you expect us to do, throw a party? I can't train with a baby on my hip, and I'm definitely _not_ going to be seen on the beach with him."

Dawn put her hands on her hips. "And why not? What's wrong with being seen with our son in public?"

He took a piece of candy out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. "Nothing. I just don't want a bunch of stupid little brats poking at him and rude girls squealing and trying to hold him. Plus, I can't swim when I have him."

Relieved at his answer, she nodded. "Well, tomorrow morning I'll stay with him, and you can go to the beach or wherever you want to go. Thanks for staying with him. Aside from the bottle warmer thing, it really made everything go a lot more smoothly."

Paul pursed his lips to show that he heard her, but said nothing. His gaze traveled around the room, taking in everything that his wife had done. "This must have taken a while."

"It did."

She moved over to where he was standing and picked up the travel bag. "I'm just going to take this into the back room. If anyone shows up, answer the door, huh?"

"Yeah, okay."

As Dawn went to drop off the bag, Paul leaned against the table, facing the balcony. Nobody ever told him that being a father would take up so much of his free time. Between the Gym and Matthew, it felt like he never had any time for himself. He loved Matthew to bits, but there were times when he wished the baby was older and could be left alone.

A soft knock on the door startled him a bit. Turning, he walked around the table to the door. Grabbing the brass handle, he twisted it and pulled back.

* * *

"Yeah, babe, I got you," Gary said, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be back in a bit. Just keep your cool and don't worry about the Pokémon. Kukui will handle 'em."

He half-listened to the reply, knowing that it wasn't worth his attention. His assistant always was such a worrier. Gary swore that she couldn't do anything but dream up four billion ways that even the simplest task could go wrong.

As soon as she finished speaking, he pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the button to hang up. His wife was waiting and he had zero time left for this.

Picking up his suitcase, he waltzed over to where Sally was waiting for him. The bubbly blonde had checked the duo into the hotel, and was presently eyeing a fancy bottle of wine on display.

Gary leaned up against the marble counter top, inching his head into her line of sight. "Maybe later we can crack that open. I'll pour us a couple'a glasses, put on some slow music, and see where it goes."

She giggled, a fruity little noise that caught the attention of anyone within earshot. "Cary, stop it! There's, like, lots of people everywhere!"

Yanking his leather wallet out of his pocket, Gary produced one of many credit cards. He slid it across the desk, raising his eyebrows at the lady across. "One bottle of wine for the lady, and a pack of gum too. And make it fast."

The woman looked like she wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or annoyed, but said nothing. As she went off to fulfill his order, Gary slipped behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. He breathed down her neck, smiling in pure delight when she shivered.

"Hey," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. "Did anybody ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?"

He could almost feel her heat up. "No."

He gave her a tight squeeze. "Not surprised. They were probably too dumbstruck by it to say anything. You have that effect on men. I've seen it."

She twisted her head so that her lips were a hair away from her husband's. "Then why are you still talking?"

"I'm the only one that's got the balls." He pressed his lips against hers, almost immediately feeling her ask to deepen it. He happily obliged, and within the span of three seconds he practically had her on the floor. She smiled against him, his hands beginning to roam.

Just when he was about to get to her favorite spot, some rude individual cleared their throat right behind them. Gary purposefully ignored it, wanting to give whoever the hell was trying to get in between him and his wife the pleasure of seeing more.

Half a second later, the person tapped rather forcefully on Gary's back. Irritated now, he swung his wife back upright and turned, shooting daggers.

A middle-aged coot was standing right there, looking down at the pair with disgust. "Do you love-struck children have to do that here, in front of everyone? It's disgusting and annoying."

Gary stuck his nose up at him. "It's the 21st century. Everyone kisses in public." A daring look crossed over his face as he added, "Or maybe you've been out of the dating loop too long to know."

The man's brow twitched. "For your information, I have a wife. And what you were doing there was most certainly more than 'just kissing'."

"Why do you care? You wanna join in or something?"

A split second before the grumbling man decked the Oak, the receptionist intervened. She slid her petite form right in between the two, a bottle of wine and a pack of gum in her hand. She had the bottle upside down and raised in her hand, ready to swing if necessary.

Quick as lightning, Gary grabbed her arm and eased it back down. "Whoa, whoa. Let's not get too excited here. This is a very expensive piece of fine culture, lady."

She shoved the gum and his credit card into his hand. "Please go to your room, sir. I'll have to call security otherwise."

Gary pretended to be offended. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to upset a pretty little face like yours."

She scoffed. "Nice try. I've seen plenty of men like you, mister. Last chance. Take yourself - and your wife - and get out of here."

He shrugged. "Fine, fine. Whatever pleases you." He winked at her. "Just know that my door is _always_ open." He grabbed Sally's hand and whisked her away, not bothering to acknowledge any of the guests that were now staring at them from every direction. They were just jealous.

Once they were in the elevator, Gary let some curses slip. How fucking dare that man, and that goddamned tramp, et cetera. In his mind, they had absolutely no right to just barge in between him and his wife. They were having a nice little moment, and they had to ruin it. Old people these days, running around acting like they never had sex in the back of a car or ran nude through a park at night.

"It's okay, Cary!" Sally assured him, wrapping herself around his arm. "I enjoyed it! Maybe we can continue it later, after we see everyone."

He gave her a small smile. "Yeah, baby, we can. Even if it has to be some place dull like the bedroom, it's better than nothing. At least we won't be bothered by some dumbass prune that way."

The elevator dinged, indicating that they had arrived at their destination. Gary found the first hotel worker he could and shoved all of his things into her arms, casually ordering her to take them to 205. When she started to object, saying things about how she was just a maid and whatnot, he slipped a hundred into her pocket and told her she'd be fine.

Leaving the young woman to figure it out for herself, Gary intertwined his and Sally's arms and took her in the direction of the event hall. They wanted to be the first to arrive. Sally wanted it that way; she wanted plenty of time to adjust to her surroundings before having to deal with a lot of people at once. Gary, on the other hand, wanted to push the boundaries of "casually late", so as to make the grandest entrance possible. He relented, however, after coming to the conclusion that it was worth sacrificing that for his wife's sanity. She had a great deal of trouble with new things, specifically if said things were thrown at her in rapid succession.

Walking straight up to the door, Gary gestured for Sally to do the honors. Looking happy to have been given the honor, she tapped against the door. Gary rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well that such a quiet noise would never be heard by anyone. He decided to show her how it's done, but found himself staring into a pair of black eyes before he could.

Paul acknowledged them both with a curt nod. "You're both the first to arrive," he reported, skipping the traditional "Hey, it's so great to see you!". He stepped out of their way, revealing most of the room behind him. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. There's appetizers out. Everyone else should be here soon."

Gary didn't have to be told twice. He flew into the hall, diving right into the hors d'oeuvres the second he saw them. As he shoved shrimp into his mouth, Paul stood rigid beside Sally, who was gaping at the room before her.

"It's so _big_ ," she commented breathlessly. Slowly, her eyes drifted over to Paul. "Was it expensive?"

Paul shuffled his feet, trying to keep his eyes up. There wasn't a woman in the world that he feared the presence of more than Sally Oak. She was so incredibly attractive, but not in any kind of sweet or pure way. She was hot in the kind of way that made wives for miles nervous. Everyone took notice of her. It was impossible not to. It wasn't like she didn't flaunt it, either. She knew she was hot, and she liked it.

Paul liked it.

He scarcely realized that he had failed to keep his hormone-driven eyes on the north side until he heard the snappy voice of his own woman. He pulled his eyes away from Gary's trophy and rested them on Dawn.

"I said, why didn't you come and tell me that Gary and Sally were here?" she asked, her voice tart.

He stumbled a bit before finding his voice again. "Well, um, they- they just got here. A minute or two ago. I was going to come and tell you, but I didn't want to be rude."

He thought he heard her mumble something about that being a first, but wasn't completely sure. "Well, I can take over now. Why don't you go and see how Gary's doing, so I can catch up with Sally?" There was a distinct point behind her voice.

Returning to his usual demeanor, Paul just shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, sure."

As he wandered toward Gary, Dawn moved to stand a bit closer to Sally. She leaned over the girl, who stood nearly a head shorter than her. "I see you haven't changed much, Sally. I assume your job's still going very well?"

The blonde nodded, failing to notice the anger beaming off the blue-haired host. "Yeah, it is! You're right, though, nothing much has changed! Except, I mean, Robby quit. We've got a new manager. Ryan. He's nice. Everyone around there really is. There always trying to make sure we're okay." She swung her eyes around the room again. "You really did a nice job."

Dawn's anger faded as Sally complimented her work. _She didn't mean anything bad. It's not her fault your husband's a typical man._ "Thanks," she said. "It really took a while. Figuring out what would work best where was the hardest part. I had a certain image in mind; it just took me a while to get it to come to life. And then, of course, I had to pick out my outfit, and do my hair..."

Sally beamed at her. "Well, your dress looks great! The color goes really well on you."

Dawn blushed a little. "Thanks." Somewhat-absentmindedly, she ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't have much time to do my hair, though. Doesn't it look just awful?"

"I don't think so. Did you just get it dyed again? The color looks rich!"

She nodded, impressed. Sally was one of the few people who actually understood fashion; it was almost enough to make up for the fact that she was purposefully loose. Dawn supposed it came from her time on the stage.

The two women continued to chatter. Eventually, Dawn realized that she should make use of what time she had left before the rest of the guests arrived to finish fixing herself up. As she excused herself to re-do her hair for the millionth time, another knock came to the door.

Sally, being the closest, decided to do her hosts a favor and answer it. She opened the door with much excitement, eager to see who was arriving next.

"Brock!"


End file.
